Beautiful Nightmare
by greysweatshirts
Summary: "As Violet stared at her rounded belly, she couldn't help but wonder if something a whole hell of a lot more sinister than Tate Langdon had crawled inside of her." Season One. Rating subject to change.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a story...  
...in which Tate never raped Vivien  
...in which Vivien had never gotten pregnant by either Ben or Tate  
... in which Violet had never died  
... in which neither Ben nor Viven are aware of the supernatural presences in the house  
...in which even a child created out of love has the potential to fulfill a terrible destiny.**

 **Disclaimer: These characters and the rest of the AHS universe belong to the twisted minds of Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk.**

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Violet had never really paid attention in Biology class. She was smart enough to figure out exactly what she needed to mentally regurgitate in order to get an "A" on exams that she spent the entirety of the period doodling or daydreaming about getting out of the hellhole that was high school. However, she remembered enough to be absolutely, 100% confident that there was absolutely no way she was pregnant. Her reasoning behind this conclusion was twofold: one, that she had not been sexually active with anyone else apart from Tate, and two, that the creation of a baby required two living, breathing parents. Emphasis on living. And yet, every single one of the twelve pregnancy tests that she had taken in the last hour were positive. Every. Single. One.

The turning of the girls' bathroom door handle shook Violet out of her mind-boggling reverie and she quickly swept the tests off of the counter and into her backpack. When Leah and her posse strolled in, the only evidence of the ordeal the youngest Harmon had just been through was a faint tremble in her hands as she pretended to check her hair in the mirror. Leah paused as soon as she was right behind Violet, whispering so that only she could hear what was being said.

"Freak."

And with that, she flipped her hair and proceeded towards the handicapped stall with likely nothing on her mind other than her next coke fix.

Violet let the weight of that word press down upon her. Freak. Such an insult would not normally affect her, as Leah had no basis other than malice in her words, but the dozen white sticks lying on top of her history textbook now proved otherwise. Freak. She was a freak.

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As soon as she burst into the the house's front door, she headed straight upstairs in order to avoid her mom's scheduled barrage of questions about her day. She flopped onto her bed, wishing for nothing more than to fall asleep for the rest of eternity. She now knew better than to be surprised when Tate appeared on the bed next to her, enclosing her hand within his and nuzzling her neck.

"I missed you."

Violet turned her head and gave a weak smile as her light brown eyes met the blond's dark mahogany ones.

"I missed you, too."

She knew that her boyfriend could tell that something was up with her. Violet normally came home from school ranting and raving about the bullshit that she had to put up with at Westfield, with Tate needing to calm her down by sitting next to her and holding her hand before he could even get a word in. The lethargy she was demonstrating today was a far cry from her usual demeanor.

"Do you want to do something?" said Tate, tone even with a hint of caution in his words.

"Not right now. Just be here with me, ok?"

With a nod of his platinum curls, Tate wrapped his free hand around Violet's waist and pulled her close to him. The familiar smell of wool and cigarette smoke surrounded Violet as she snuggled into his sweater, the tides of sleep already washing over her before she closed her eyes.

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Violet awoke to the sound of her mother's voice cascading up the stairs.

"Violet! Time for dinner!"

The teen instinctively ignored Vivien and moved closer to Tate, only to find that he was no longer there. She bolted upwards, wincing at the brief flash of pain the sudden movement brought to her lower abdomen. Said prick of discomfort reminded her of the events of the day and her need to find out more about what was really going on with her.

Begrudgingly, Violet hauled herself out of bed and downstairs to the Harmon's overly-formal dining room. There, she found her mom and dad as far away from each other as humanly possible, ignoring each other and looking towards her expectantly. Violet sighed and sat in the middle of the table, as any other position would indicate favoritism towards one parent over the other.

"How was your day, honey?" chirped Vivien as she practically threw the mashed potato bowl across the table towards Ben. Her husband did the same with the Brussels sprouts, nearly taking down Violet's glass in the process.

"It would be a whole lot better if every meal you two spent together didn't turn into a food fight."

Vivien sighed and gingerly inched the roast chicken toward Violet, who was more than happy to serve as the go-between for her parents if it meant sparing her own meal in the process.

"Tate didn't show up for his appointment today."

Violet turned toward her father, trying to conceal her emotions at the mention of the person that she cared about most and he cared for least.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I know we could have used the money."

Ben's jaw tightened as he stared down his only child.

"You wouldn't happen to know why he didn't, right? Because I told you to stay away from him."

Violet didn't answer, heart racing to a crescendo.

"Right?" the doctor pressed on.

She continued to stare at her feet, cheeks reddening.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Dad."

Dr. Harmon slammed his fist against the table, the impact of which sending his food flying across the table.

"STAY AWAY FROM HIM!"

Rather than crying like any other normal person being faced with such unadulterated anger, Violet let out a short laugh.

"If you're trying to protect me, it's a little late for that."

The words flew out of her mouth before she could help herself. Ben's face froze. Vivien, watching this scene play out with absolute shock, turned to face her daughter.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Violet gulped, and prepared herself to say the words that would make her a target in the eyes of every baby-crazed ghost in the house, the words that would forever change her relationship with the ghostly boy whose trembling fingers she could feel on her shoulders, the words that would change absolutely everything in her life.

"I'm pregnant."

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-therealfabgab**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: These characters and the rest of the AHS universe belong to the twisted minds of Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk.**

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Violet heard a sharp intake of breath behind her, quickly turning around to confirm her suspicions: Tate was gone. She slowly turned back around to face her parents, who looked like they had witnessed a car accident in front of their very eyes. Vivien was shaking like a leaf, while Ben was frozen in place, eyes pointed in the direction of his fifteen year old's abdomen. At last, he lifted his gaze to her.

"Go to your room."

Violet hadn't been ordered to do this since she was ten years old.

"Dad-"

The psychiatrist's face was blank.

"I said go."

The teen could feel a heart wrenching sob rising up inside her, but chose to follow her father's command. She sat on her bed and closed her eyes, opening them to find Tate standing in the doorway.

As he approached her, she could see none of his usual bravado in his demeanor. All that was left was helplessness and guilt, hands shoved deep in his pockets as if fighting the urge to hurt himself for what he had done.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered, eyes searching hers wildly.

"I.. don't know. I didn't even know that this could happen. That you and I could... Otherwise, I would have made sure we used protection. Did..."

Here Violet trailed off, uncertain as to how to phrase what she wanted to say next without hurting Tate.

"...Did you know that this could happen?"

Her question hung in the air for a few moments as the ghostly boy tried to understand what she meant. Then he gasped, an unintentional inhalation of breath that he no longer needed to survive.

"Listen to me. I would never, ever have been so careless if I had known that this could happen. I would never hurt you like that. Never. Because I love you. And if you love someone, you should never hurt them."

Tears began to flow from the corners of his dark brown eyes, a brown so rich and bold that they were almost black.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

He started to back away, a motion that made Violet's heart drop in her slender chest.

"Don't leave!" she cried.

Within moments they were entangled in each other's arms, a cacophony of love and pain and fear for what was yet to come. All they knew in that instant was that they had each other, and that was a very good place to start.

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Weeks went by, and before long Violet had reached the end of her first trimester. Her growing abdomen was the fixation of every single undead entity in the house, none more so than Nora, who would stare at Violet every chance she could get until she was caught and then disappear in an Art Deco blur. Such attention was more than she could say for her father, who hadn't spoken a single word to her or Tate since the night that he found out. Tate had braced himself for Dr. Harmon's wrath when he showed up for his next appointment, only to be met with a quick "I can't treat you anymore" and the door slammed in his face. Vivien, after getting over the initial shock of oh my god, my fifteen year old daughter is pregnant, made it her mission to keep Violet and the baby as healthy and cared for as possible. Violet knew that her mother's motivation in doing as such was knowing that she would never have a baby again, but was grateful for the support nonetheless.

The three-month mark had not been met without difficulty. What started off as morning sickness soon turned into morning, afternoon, and night sickness. Violet's bouts of nausea left her too exhausted to do much more than crawl back into bed, leading to her and her mom coming to the decision that it would be best for her to continue her education on a home-bound program for the rest of her pregnancy. Violet envisioned spending the entire day playing card games and listening to Nirvana with Tate during this this welcome departure from high school hell, but oftentimes had to settle for him holding her until she fell asleep and got the rest she so desperately needed.

The morning of her 12-week doctor's appointment, Violet woke up feeling better than she had in a long time. She rolled over onto her other side and smiled at Tate, who had taken to sitting by her bed rather than on it at night so that she could have the entirety of the mattress to herself. The blonde gave a hesitant smile back, eyes clouded with his usual mix of care and concern for his girlfriend.

"How are you feeling today?"

Violet stretched and eased herself up into a sitting position.

"Good, oddly enough. I don't feel like I need to puke my guts out."

"That's always a good start, right?"

The girl laughed. Tate's aforementioned hesitant smile morphed into a genuine one, taking over his entire face and spanning from ear to ear.

"C'mon. You've got a big day ahead of you, remember?"

"I remember. I really wish that you could come with me."

"Me too. But you've got your mom, and you can bring me back a... what's it called? A mammogram?"

Violet snorted.

"I think you mean sonogram. A mammogram is a breast exam."

Tate smirked, causing the girl to realize that he wasn't mistaken after all.

"Bonus points if you let me give you one of those later."

Violet rolled her eyes and proceeded to get ready for the appointment.

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The OB-GYN's waiting room felt more like a spa than a doctor's office. The beaming receptionist had offered coffee to Mrs. Harmon and prenatal tea to Violet, all while soft flute music piped through a hidden speaker. Vivien hummed to herself as she poured through a Pottery Barn Baby catalogue, bookmarking pages of hypoallergenic blankets and finely crafted wooden mobiles. Violet just stared at her feet, knowing that she wouldn't be able to do as such for very much longer.

"Violet?"

A nurse dressed in pink scrubs, wearing the same almost fake-looking smile as the receptionist, beckoned them through a door and down a long hallway. The appointment room, identical to the one she had been seen in during her first appointment, was decidedly more sterile than the waiting room. It was outfitted with all of the things the teen was used to seeing at the doctors and another, decidedly terrifying aspect: stirrups. Violet gave a little shudder to herself and sat on the table, crossing her legs as tightly as possible.

"You must be Violet."

The Harmons turned toward the door, where a beautiful woman in a lab coat was standing. Her hair was tightly braided into neat cornrows, and her mahogany skin shone in the sunlight that streamed in from a nearby window.

"I'm Dr. Taylor. Dr. Montgomery has taken a leave of absence, so I'll be taking you on as my patient for the rest of your pregnancy. You're here for your 12-week appointment, correct?"

Violet nodded. The doctor looked behind her for a moment and then shut the door.

"Is it just you and your mom today? No father of the child?"

"He... couldn't be here. It's not that he isn't involved, he just... couldn't come."

Violet had felt a sudden need to jump to Tate's defense. After all, it wasn't his fault that he couldn't leave the house. Vivien looked at her daughter quizzically, causing the girl to remember that she still wasn't supposed to be seeing Tate. Violet shrugged and turned her attention back to the doctor, who was explaining what she would be doing for the duration of the appointment.

"...And after I check your cervix, I'm going to have our ultrasound technician take a look at your baby's position and make sure everything is progressing like it should. Is that ok?"

Violet nodded. In the moments following she was quite glad that Tate hadn't been able to come, as she felt like she was at her weakest and most vulnerable while the doctor completed the exam. A few moments later, she heard a slight rap on the door and then in came the technician, wheeling a portable ultrasound machine in with her. The brown-haired girl couldn't help but wince once the squirt of cool jelly hit her slightly protruding stomach. The technician tapped a few keys and carefully moved the wand around.

"Let's see... There we go."

Violet turned her head towards the screen and looked where the technician was pointing. There was a perfectly formed shadow of a baby- a sight so pure and divine that a couple of tears sprang to her eyes. Then she noticed something odd at the bottom of the screen.

"Why does it have a third foot?"

The technician chewed on her lip thoughtfully and moved the wand slightly downwards. In an instant, she broke out into an excited smile.

"That's not a third foot... That's another baby. Congrats, Violet. You're having twins."

The world seemed to spin around her. It had taken her months to work up to the idea of having one baby at fifteen, but two? Two was a big number. Two meant double the cribs, double the strollers, double the sleepless nights. But two also meant yet another part of Tate that she got to bring into the world, a fact in itself that she found joy in.

"Why weren't we able to see both babies at the last appointment?" Mrs. Harmon demanded. The technician moved the wand again, a note of concern in her brow.

"Baby number two appears to be almost completely obstructed by the first one. It's only by chance that we happened to see the corner of its membrane on the scan."

This deeply troubled Violet.

"Is the second one going to be okay?"

The technician looked toward Dr. Taylor, who moved closer to Violet and gently took her hand.

"While it's true the first fetus is blocking the other fetus from receiving certain nutrients, this problem will is usually correct itself when the babies begin to move more frequently."

"And if it doesn't?"

Dr. Taylor gave her a reassuring smile.

"Let's cross that bridge if and only if we get there. For now, I want you to focus on getting plenty of rest and making sure you stay as healthy as possible for the benefit of all three of you."

Violet nodded her head and looked towards her mom, who was trying very hard to conceal the worry on her face. The doctor and technician proceeded to leave the room, leaving behind strict instructions for diet and self care as well as an ultrasound print out. The youngest Harmon looked again at the image, her second charge just barely visible in the corner of the shot. The once-heavenly looking shadow of the first baby now looked much more ominous than before. The second one's tiny foot, so much smaller than the first's, seemed to be reaching out for help in the presence of someone -or something- evil. A chill ran down Violet's spine, remaining there until long after she fell asleep that night in Tate's arms.

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 **Please let me know what you guys think so far, and follow and favorite if you haven't already! I'm definitely having way too much fun with this ;)**

 **-greysweatshirts**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: These characters and the rest of the AHS universe belong to the twisted minds of Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk.**

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From an old armchair positioned in front of an upstairs window, Violet watched as the taxi pulled up in front of Constance's house. She had been dreading this day for fourteen odd weeks... the day that Mrs. Langdon would return from her honeymoon with Travis. The Harmons had no idea that the two were leaving to jet set around the globe together until they viewed a rented car speeding out of her driveway, a hastily written "Just Married" sign flapping behind them. Further investigation yielded them nothing but a note pinned to the front door that read _Be back in five_. As five hours turned into five days turned into five weeks, they assumed that she had been far too excited to escape with her boy toy to write _months_ at the end of the sentence. The day that this conclusion was made was a week before Violet had found out that she was pregnant. Thus, Constance had no knowledge that she would be a grandmother in less than four months time. Ever since Addy's death, the Langdon matriarch's moods had been rather unpredictable, spanning from a depressive wailing that could be heard clear across the yard to impulsive decisions such as marrying a living Ken doll. Violet hoped that her reaction would be somewhere in between the two, but with Constance, there was never any certainty other than that where she went, drama would follow.

Since her twelve-week checkup, Violet had been doing everything she could to ensure the health of her babies… Especially the second one, the one that was essentially being suffocated by its twin. She had felt no significant movement until the night before her follow-up appointment, upon which an ultrasound revealed that the second twin was now in the prime nutrient-receiving position. Violet felt a sense of calm until that night. Moments after she lay down, she felt like a Ferris wheel had been turned on inside of her and the babies swapped positions again... Almost as if the first baby had only switched places with the second so that its nutrient-hogging would go undetected by the obstetrician and then resumed its greedy behavior when it knew it wasn't being watched. The same thing happened appointment after appointment until Violet stopped bringing up the constant movement, knowing that the ultrasound would never reveal what she knew to be true: the first baby was doing it on purpose and weakening both her and its twin in the process. Having no one to turn to for advice on ghost pregnancies, the teen hoped that Constance would have come across someone in all her years of being privy to the supernatural that might be able to help her. If it weren't for that, the youngest Harmon would have been fine with never seeing that crazy bitch ever again. Even now, she still wasn't sure that she wanted to.

Violet continued to stare out of the window, deep in thought, until she felt someone come up behind her. Thinking that it was Nora or Chad, both competing for the title of Murder House's Most Baby-Crazy Ghost, she tensed; but relaxed when she recognized the rings on Tate's hands as he gently put his arms around of her. He kissed her on the top of her head and reached down to lay a careful hand on her swollen stomach, a touch that eased her near-constant aches and pains more than any of the pregnancy remedies she had looked up and tried.

"You should be resting."

Violet continued to stare straight ahead.

"Your mother's back."

She felt Tate tense for a moment and his arms fall back to his sides. Turning her head around to face him, Violet wasn't surprised to see his normally sparkling dark brown eyes as black as pitch, a stormy expression taking over his features.

"So what? She could have stayed gone for the rest of eternity for all I care."

Violet motioned toward her abdomen.

"How do you think she's going to react to this? You know her better than I do."

Tate gave a dark laugh.

"She's probably going to try and lay some bullshit claim on one, if not both of them. But there's no chance in hell that I'm going to let her do that. I won't let her get in the way of our family just because her's is so fucked up."

Violet took a deep, shaky breath.

"She's going to come here eventually for you. Or Beau. I can't hide from her forever, even if I wanted to. Besides, she's my only shot at finding out why things have been so weird during my pregnancy."

Tate stepped in front of the armchair pulled her close to his chest, eyes fierce but determined.

"Then we'll tell her together. I'll be there with you the whole time."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

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Due to the excessive amount of doorbell ringing, Vivien was not surprised to find Constance at her front door. She was dressed in a long-sleeve lace dress, despite it being 88 degrees and July in L.A., wearing dark sunglasses as if to hide from nonexistent paparazzi. Other than a slight tan, she was the same old bat as ever.

"Yvonne! How are you, darling?"

"It's Vivien."

Constance waved her off, a giant diamond ring on her finger catching the mid-afternoon light in the process.

"Have you seen my son around here?"

"Yes. Your son. We really need to discuss-"

"Where?"

"Probably sneaking around with Violet. But seriously, you must know-"

"I'll be just a moment."

Constance breezed past the redhead into the foyer, leading a dumbstruck Vivien in her wake.

"I never said that you could come in!" the exasperated woman called after her. Knowing that it was no use, she shook her head and retreated into the kitchen, seething.

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Not finding Tate in any of his usual haunts (no pun intended), Constance knew that he was either skulking in the basement alone or doing as such with the little pest he insisted on calling his girlfriend. She descended the basement steps as if they were a royal staircase, only pausing to call "Don't even think about it" over her shoulder towards Thaddeus, who retreated with a ghastly whimper. The honey blonde flicked on the light switch impatiently, eyes brightening when she saw Tate standing there in front of his rocking chair. His facial features were as they had been towards her for the last seventeen years: guarded but angry and altogether pissed-off.

"Darling! I've just come back from Bali, where this old hag of Pan-Asian descent told me of these fantastic communications with their spiritual ancestors that I really think could help-"

"Can you shut up for once in your life?"

Constance, clearly hurt but used to it by now, continued.

"My dear, that's really no way to talk to your mother and besides, I'm trying to-"

"I need your help with something."

That was enough to get her to fall silent. She looked toward her son expectantly, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"I knew this day would come if I waited patiently enough."

Tate rolled his eyes.

"This isn't about you. It isn't even about me, really. It's about Violet."

Now it was Tate on the receiving end of an eye roll.

"What could that little brat possibly need from me? She's already turned my own flesh and blood away from me."

Wordlessly, Tate stepped to the side to reveal Violet sitting in the chair behind him. She looked a lot frailer than she had five months ago. Her legs were covered by a blanket and she appeared to have something in her lap.

"Hi, Mrs. Langdon."

Constance looked toward the haggard girl in front of her and then back at her son, confused.

"I don't understand."

Violet looked up toward Tate, who was standing protectively to her right.

"Help me up?"

Worry creased through the blonde boy's brow.

"You sure? You've already done a lot of standing today."

Violet nodded. Tate reached out his upper arm for her to grab onto, his other hand clenched into a first. When she was almost fully up, a feat that seemed to have exhausted her, the ghostly boy stepped in front of her and used both hands to stabilize her. A few moments later, he stepped back to the side, giving Constance a full view of Violet's profile.

The blanket had fallen away to reveal that the only thing on the girl's lap was her own distended stomach, stretching one of Tate's old sweaters in an unnatural fashion. The sweater was over top of a flowered dress that revealed her thin legs, trembling but holding firm with determination. As soon as her top half began to shake as well, Tate quickly grabbed a hold of her and gently lowered her back down into the rocker, retrieving the blanket from the floor and smoothing it on top of her with the utmost care. He turned back to face his mother, whose facial expression could only be described as horrified.

"What have you done?" she whispered, backing slowly away from the abomination that was Violet Harmon. The poor girl...

"Mama, please."

Constance froze. Tate hadn't called her that since he was six years old. Since 1983. Since she had shot and killed his father and led him to believe that he had been abandoned, a lie that Tate still believed beyond the grave. She was surprised that in all this time, Hugo had never revealed himself to his son and told him the truth. It was for the best, as there was no way Tate would even have been speaking to her right now if he knew how things had actually gone down.

"Al-alright" she stammered, slowly moving closer towards the couple. When she was a few feet away from Violet, Tate clenched his teeth.

"Close enough."

Having no choice other than to obey, Constance pulled up a rickety old dining chair from the basement debris and sat down next to the girl.

"How far along are you?"

"Five months."

Constance's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

" _Only_ five?"

Violet folded her hands and looked nervously toward the ground.

"It's.. It's twins."

"Dear Lord."

Another glare from Tate and she resumed her line of questioning.

"What have you noticed out of the ordinary so far? I mean, not that you've ever been pregnant before, so I hope, but from what you might have read up about it."

Violet rocked back and forth slowly, as if trying to calm her nerves.

"The only reason we were able to find out that there was a second baby is because its foot was visible in the corner of the sonogram shot around twelve weeks. The first one has been blocking it from receiving nutrients... Only every time I go for an ultrasound, the first one moves so that second baby is on top and switches back whenever the doctor's gone. No matter if I go for a scheduled appointment or to the emergency room in the middle of the night, it's always the same thing: switch positions so that the second baby's on top when the doctor arrives and proceeds to tell me that it's normal for twins to move around a lot and how surgery to reposition them would be harmful to the first baby, doctor leaves, first baby goes back to suffocating its twin. It's exhausting."

While Violet was talking, Tate had grabbed another mottled chair from around the basement and pulled it up on her other side. He reached over and grabbed her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze and then turning back to Constance.

"We were hoping that you might know someone who has knowledge of ghost pregnancies. Surely you've come across a medium by now who can tell us something, anything, anything at all." Tate's voice was even, but his desperation was evident.

Constance swallowed, hard.

"I think I might know someone. I haven't talked to her in years... I hope she's still practicing. I'll let you two know."

At this, Violet's eyes danced with delight.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Langdon."

"Please, call me Constance. After all," -and here she reached over and rested her fingertips on Violet's belly- "you're part of the family now."

Violet nodded. Tate then proceeded to help her up the stairs, presumably to her bedroom. Constance waited in the basement, knowing full well that he would be back. When he finally returned, he sat down in the rocking chair and put his head in his hands. He looked up at his mother with tears streaming down his face. All she wanted to do was to comfort him in her arms, but she knew that it was no longer her right to mother him. She had given that up long ago.

"I was wondering what the punishment would be for killing all those people. I knew it would hurt. I knew I would suffer. I just... didn't think that she would be dragged into it."

Tate's eyes were pleading.

"Tell me the truth. What is it, that thing inside her?"

Constance matched his gaze.

"I don't know exactly what it is. What I do know is that it's not human. And it's going to kill her."

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 **Thoughts? I really appreciate any feedback you guys have to offer- special thanks to youallhaveplans for this story's first review! Follow, favorite, etc, etc.**

 **-greysweatshirts**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: These characters and the rest of the AHS universe belong to the twisted minds of Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk.**

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"Dr. Harmon? Dr. Harmon..."

Ben realized that he had been staring into space for a few minutes now. This recurrent mental absence wasn't a problem when he was by himself, but it most certainly was when he had a patient.

"I'm listening, Monica. Now, tell me about when your problem with overeating began..."

After the session was over, Ben resumed his cognitive holiday until he heard the doorbell ring. Standing in front of him was none other than the bastard who got his fifteen-year-old daughter pregnant.

"Dr. Harmon."

"Tate."

The two stared at each other before Ben waved Tate into his study. At first, he tried to keep the boy away from Violet, even after he knew that she was pregnant and refused to talk to her. But he had seen the toll the pregnancy had taken on his baby girl. He watched as her stomach expanded and took her vitality along with it. He heard her moans and groans in the middle of the night as the babies moved. The only thing that seemed to be of any relief to her was Tate by her side. Ben could no longer deny her that. The only thing that he asked in exchange was for the blonde to give him updates about Violet's condition: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Things had fallen into the latter two categories more often than not.

"How is she?"

Tate took a deep breath.

"She's... Still in a lot of pain, obviously, especially as the bigger of the two has been really active. I think she's finally healed from that broken rib a couple of weeks ago, though."

Ben nodded stoically.

"Did you guys find out the genders yet?"

Tate broke out into a small smile.

"Yeah. Violet wanted to wait until the end of her second trimester. Kind of a reward for getting through it. It's one of each. A girl and a boy."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir."

The psychiatrist had one last question.

"What's this about some sort of spiritual healer coming to see Violet later today? I heard Constance talking to Vivien earlier."

The blonde boy's mind race to come up with some sort of explanation that didn't involve the words psychic or ghost.

"Uh... My mother knows some people who practice alternative medicine. She thought it might be good for Violet, considering nothing else really seems to have helped her."

Ben nodded his head slowly, processing this. It was worth a shot... Hell, anything was at this point.

"Thank you."

Tate nodded politely and started to head out of the study, but stopped and turned around.

"You know it's not too late, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"For you and Violet. She needs as many people in her corner as she can get, especially her dad."

Ben turned away from Tate so that the younger man couldn't see the tears in his eyes. He wanted to be there for Violet, his daughter, his only baby... But he couldn't. He just couldn't. He didn't know how.

Tate sighed and made his way upstairs. Ben waited for the sound of Violet's door gently being shut before reaching for the picture of her on his desk and beginning to sob.

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 _Violet walked into the meadow where Tate was waiting for her. He had spread a checkered blanket (black, of course) around him, a picnic hamper in one hand and a bouquet of roses in the other. He smiled._

" _I've been waiting for you for so long."_

" _So have I."_

She began to run towards him, instead hitting her head on a glass screen that now separated the two of them. With all of her might, she shattered the wall between them, only to find that Tate was no longer there. She was all alone...

Violet woke up with a gasp. Heart pounding, her eyes darted frantically around her only to find that she was not in a meadow but rather her own room. Starting to calm down, she leaned back into her pillows and waited for Tate.

Everything had changed this past month. The position-switching of her babies was now a lot more frequent and a lot more painful the bigger that they hot. Against all odds, the second baby was still growing. Not as big as her brother, who looked more developed than the average 6-month-old fetus, but still fighting for life the best she could. The same went for Violet, who had been placed on bed rest by Dr. Taylor. No matter how many pills she had to choke down or broken ribs and bruises that she had to endure, it would all be worth it in the end for her sweet baby girl. The expectant mother's feelings toward her son, the first baby, were more complex. On one hand, her new maternal instincts guided her towards nothing but love for both of her children. On the other, Violet knew that there were dark forces involved within the creation of her son... Forces that were killing her from the inside out. Her last prick of hope lay in the woman Constance spoke of. Perhaps she could help.

The door opened and within seconds Tate had taken his usual spot. He had moved the rocking chair from its basement home to put in the nursery, but was shooed away by Vivien on account of the chair clashing with the wood of the cribs she had special ordered from a master craftsman. The seat now resided next to Violet's bed where the love of her life rocked back and forth, looking at her like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time.

"Did you actually use the front door?" she teased.

"What else was I supposed to do? Your dad was there."

At the mention of her father, Violet grew quiet. Tate quickly changed the subject.

"Have you been thinking about names?"

Violet nodded vigorously, reaching for a notebook on her bedside table but stopping halfway there with a wince. Tate handed her the notebook and pretended like nothing had happened, like it wasn't his fault that the love of his life was no longer able to engage in even the simplest of tasks.

"Ok... First, I was thinking about your brother and sister. Instead of Beauregard and Adelaide, I like Beaumont and Adeline."

Tate smiled, thinking about the innocence and purity of his siblings and how perfect it would be to pass on their brief legacies to his children.

"I like that. A lot."

Violet grinned and kept flipping through the pages.

"The other idea I had was kind of like what Will and Jada Smith did with their kids... Wait, you probably don't know who they are. _Men In Black_?"

Tate gave her a questioning shrug.

"God, that was a good movie. Regardless, they named their son Jaden and their daughter Willow, basically just taking their names and lengthening them. In our case, I liked Tatum for the boy and Violetta for the girl."

Tate picked up her frail hand and kissed it.

"I like both ideas. I'm good with whatever you decide."

A knock on the door broke the pair out of their nomenclatural discussion. Constance passed over the threshold with a beautiful yet unfamiliar woman in tow.

"Violet, this is Billie Dean Howard. I believe that she can help you with your... situation."

Billie sat on the edge of the bed and extended her hand. The blonde emulated refinement: perfectly coiffed hair, impeccably pressed dress, and flawless lipstick. She looked more like a _Marie Claire_ editor than a clairvoyant. Feeling extremely self-conscious and wishing that she was wearing more than an oversized sleep shirt and a ragged pair of sweatpants, Violet hesitantly returned the gesture.

"Thank you so much for coming to see me."

"Of course. Now, tell me about what you have been experiencing."

Violet relayed her ongoing struggles with the first baby and the pregnancy in general. Billie nodded intently, as if she had already known what the teen was going to say before the words came out of her mouth. The medium motioned toward the girl's distended stomach.

"May I?"

Violet nodded, pulling down the covers and lifting her shirt. Her abdomen was a myriad of painful-looking bruises, the sight of which causing Tate to inhale sharply and look away. Billie gently rested her hand on top of the mottled stomach, gasping instantly.

"So it's true."

"What's true?" questioned Violet, pulling her shirt back down and squeezing Tate's hand.

"The Pope's Box. Am I right to assume that neither of you are Catholic?"

Despite the gravity of the situation, Tate and Violet looked at each other and burst out laughing. Billie continued, no sign of humor on her face.

"When a new Pope has been chosen, he is ushered into a small chamber next to the Sistine Chapel. Once inside this chamber, the Pope is presented with a box. This box is said to contain a piece of paper that holds the secret of the end of the world."

Tate looked at her in confusion.

"I don't understand what this box has to do with-"

Violet interrupted, face growing pale.

"What does this piece of paper say?"

Billie's face took on an unearthly appearance as she began to recite the message, as if it was not her delivering it but a deity inhabiting her body.

"A child born of human and spirit has the power to fulfill two separate destinies. If it has been conceived unethically, it is the essence of evil and will usher in the end of times. If it has been conceived through the power of true love, it will be accompanied by another spirit, one of divine good. It is only through the light of the other spirit that the world will be saved."

Neither of the teenagers spoke for a while. At long last, Violet swallowed hard and looked up toward the medium.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that your son is the Antichrist and your daughter is the spirit of Christ reborn."

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 ** **Please let me know what you guys think of this latest development! In addition, there is a poll on my profile page so that you can vote for what set of baby names you want the twins to have. The poll will close when I post the next chapter (which will be soon, I promise!). Thanks for all of the support!****

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	5. Chapter 5

**Hey everyone! Thanks you so much for all of the favorites and follows- I never would have expected this story to blow up like it did. Sorry that it's been so long since my last update- school takes up a lot more of my time then I'd like- but without further ado, here is a another chapter of Beautiful Nightmare!**

 **Disclaimer: These characters and the rest of the AHS universe belong to the twisted minds of Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk.**

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Violet's initial reaction to Billie's announcement was to laugh. Even after all of the supernatural crap that had happened over the course of the past year, even after she had resigned herself to believe that nothing was impossible, the idea of her being chosen to give birth to the Antichrist was fucking ridiculous.

All of a sudden, a lightning bolt of pain rippled its way across her abdomen. Violet gasped as the spasm seared its way through her body, causing her to contort into a fetal position. She felt as though she were composed of steel bars and the child inside her were a prisoner trying to break free. And then just as soon as the pain had come upon her, it vanished before either Tate or Billie had time to react to the scene in front of them. The blonde grabbed her lover's hand and smiled weakly at him in order to prove that she was alright for the time being. Still, his remaining hand fluttered unsteadily around her fragile form, as if he were a conductor and the forces controlling her ravaged body were a symphony he had the ability to control. At long last, Violet met his other palm with her own and looked Tate straight in his haunted face.

"I'm fine, I promise... He's strong, that's all."

She then turned toward Billie, who had taken in this whole affair with absolutely no surprise whatsoever.

"What can I do?"

The medium, in spite of herself, gave out a slight chuckle.

"Unfortunately, there's not a whole lot that you have control over anymore, including your health and the health of your daughter. If the Devil's going to use a human womb for his spawn, he's going to want a little more bang for his buck, and that includes watching you suffer at the hands of his heir."

At this, the clairvoyant leaned in toward the damned pair of mere children in front of her.

"My advice? Kill yourself before the creature ever has the chance to see the light of day."

And with that, she turned on her heel and swiftly vanished out the bedroom door.

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Later that night, Violet found herself staring at her semi-clothed figure in the mirror. She was in the process of getting ready for bed, a task that grew harder and harder with each passing day, and after pulling her maternity bra and underwear on she stopped for a second to look at herself, to really, truly look at herself.

She was hideous.

Her arms and legs, normally slender, had been reduced to fragile slivers of their former selves, hardly prime candidates for supporting the rest of her frame. Her collarbone and hipbones had decided to put themselves on full display, accompanied by the bones in her hands and feet, her elbows and knees. The bags under her eyes had developed into something far more cavernous then she had ever thought possible. And then there was her stomach. "Distended" was the only real way to describe it, as it was far from the perfectly round belly she had seen on other pregnant women. Her lack of body fat made it possible to see several limbs within the swollen mound; a hand at the top and a foot at the bottom making their presence known in the form of tiny lumps.

And yet, despite all of this, despite the monster she had rapidly evolved into, Violet felt a knot of pride within her. She had made it through her second trimester. She was still here, and so was the little fighter trapped underneath her brother within her. If she could just make it a few more months... If she could just bring her beautiful baby girl to term, or just shy of that... Then all would be right. As for her son, she knew that it wasn't his fault that he had been selected as a vessel of evil. Far from it. He had been created out of love, love far beyond human comprehension, and that was something that even the Devil himself couldn't take away from him. Violet would bring him into this world, not because she was particularly eager to witness the downfall of humanity at her own hands, but because deep down inside, she truly believed that his sister would be eventually be able to save him. She placed her hands on her stomach and looked downward in a resolute fashion. After learning of the fate of her children, she decided to go with the set of names that would give them the best chance at starting their lives with purity and innocence on their sides.

"Adeline. Beaumont. I know we haven't met yet, but when we do, I promise I'll love you both more than you'll ever know. Just... try to hang in there, ok? It won't be that much longer now-"

Violet was hit with the same lightning flash of pain as earlier, only ten times as worse because it wasn't over in a moment. Instead, a fire of hurt lapped against her insides over and over and

 _oh my god ow ow OW make it stop dear god please this can't be happening now it's too early please make it stop make it STOP_

The soon-to-not-be-the-youngest Harmon clawed her way from the floor to her bed, leaving behind her a trail of blood and fluid. She heard footsteps rapidly approaching and there was Tate with her mom, flanking her with equal amounts of panic in their eyes. Violet used her last remaining ounce of strength to whisper "I love you" to her other half and then drifted off into a sea of darkness.

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 **To be continued… Thanks again for all of the support!**

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